Vegas/Commerce/Pool/Drunk Trip Report 3

Continued from Trip Report 2…

Friday evening, I made it to the pool tourney room a little before 7pm, just in time to meet my teammates and hear the announcement of table assignments. I was very hung over but felt fine to play. I wasn’t worried about winning anyway because we were there to have fun above all else…at least I was. And we were lucky to draw a team of three friendly players instead of one of the many groups in attendance obsessed with winning.

I took on the role of caption/score-keeper as Roman began the first match. He played well and won. There was nothing spectacular about it. So we were off to a good start, up 1-0. Our new female teammate was up next. We didn’t know what to expect but it did not take long to see that she lacked a competitive instinct. Her opponent was evenly matched by rank (3) but had her outclassed in skill. However, the opponent was not playing well so my teammate had a chance. But, with a lack of drive and ability, she just didn’t know how to win. After what evolved into a decent match, she lost and we were all tied, 1-1.

Now it was my turn. I had the edge on my opponent as I was ranked a 6 with him at 4. But, like I said, I was there to have fun. I also wanted to give my best effort, too. I won the lag and got the first break with which I didn’t have a problem. It was on my first shot after the break that the effects of my hang over were noticed. I felt very unsteady over shots like it was my first time bridging. Fortunately, I was able to pull myself together within the first game and was playing well in spite of my self-inflicted condition. But I lost the first game and found another alcohol-related obstruction.

I had to rack for the second game. Let me tell you, I really take the ability to rack the balls for granted. My hands were shaking ever so slightly, resulting in a frayed grouping of stripes and solids each time I tried to lift the very tight rack (People! Please! No!). It took several attempts, but I managed to assemble a breakable set.

With the APA’s handicapping system, I had to win 5 games to my opponent’s 3. So I didn’t have a ton of room for error. Normally, a 5-3 race poses no issue for me. But, this time, there were extenuating circumstances (DT’s). It proved to be a challenging match. My opponent show a great deal of creativity and skill in not only making shots, but in playing defenses. I was playing well, too, answering his tricky defensive shots with equally innovative kicks and masses to make legal contact and leave him tough. In the end, though, he played above his skill level, very close to mine, and was able to snatch the victory in a well contested match.

I was happy with my effort and results and had a good time. But we had lost our first match in the double-elimination format so our next match suddenly became more important. Worse news than that was the scheduled time for match #2…Saturday, 8am. “Wha…wha…what!? I’m in Vegas and have to wake up at 8am? Wait! Before 8am. Ayahhhh! Bad beat.” I still didn’t feel quite right in my head so this would have to be an early night or I would never make it to play pool in the morning. I didn’t do anything of note on Friday night and made it to bed by 1am. Sean called me at 2am as he was leaving the Magic Castle, figuring I was in Vegas so of course I would be awake. Nope. But no problem. Sleep thus far had been restless. The rest of the night was no better. I made it to our match in plenty of time on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, I didn’t even get to play as both my teammates lost their matches and we were quickly eliminated from the tourney. I asked the opposing team caption, “What the hell is there to do in this town now that we’re out of the tournament?”

Never mind. I can think of something. Oh! How about poker?

It was only about 10am on Saturday. What to do. What to do. I went back to my room and cleaned up. Then I walked around the casino before deciding to check in with Pam and Eric to see if they had won their morning matches. Sadly, they, too, had been eliminated. They were already over at the Peppermill with Roman, waiting for a table. I decided to join them in the bar at the Peppermill and have a drink. Maybe that would help right the ship. Ah, yes. A little hair of the dog and I was doing just fine, thank you. We ogled the waitresses in the bar then got our table in the restaurant and continued the ogling with our flirtatious red-headed server.

Heading away from the Peppermill, Pam, Eric, and Roman were going to see their friend, Steve. They wanted me to go with them but I wanted to shower and play some cards before too long. They were going to hang out with Steve for a while and Roman had promised to help set up his new computer. When Roman said it would “only take 30 minutes,” I laughed, knowingly, and opted out. They took off and I trekked back to my room. (Roman actually worked on the computer for about three hours. When I called Pam at 10pm, they were still at Steve's.)

After finishing with the three S’s, I decided to walk to The Wynn. I had wanted to visit several of the big casinos to see what changes they had made since my last trip and Wynn was on that list. It would actually be my first time there since it was under construction last time I was in town. The walk was about a mile from the Riviera but I was determined to get out. It was a nice, clear evening and I made it there in no time.

Wow! What a nice place. And it was bustling on this Saturday evening. As is customary, it was a bit of a walk from the entrance to the poker room. But I guess it probably seemed longer due to all the foot traffic. It was worth the journey, though. The Wynn’s poker room, while its size does not inspire awe, is one of the nicest I’ve seen. Among the accoutrement were LCD monitors throughout the room displaying the games and boards so they were visible from any table. My plan was to get in at my usual level, 5-10 NLH. Fortunately, it was running on four tables and the board was relatively short. In fact, by the time I located the tables so I could scope out the action, three players had been called and I was next on the list. I went back to the desk and asked about the buy-in for the game. It was $500 minimum with no maximum. It turns out there is no max to the buy-in for any game at the Wynn. That will be nice for me when I progress my game to a higher limit of gamble. But, for now, I’m used to the fixed $400 buy-in for the 5-10NL game at Commerce. I didn’t have a problem with the minimum for this particular game. But no max meant a minimum buy-in would likely be treading in deep waters. “No problem,” I thought. “But I will need to reassess the situation to figure out the proper buy-in amount.

I went back over to the 10NL tables and surveyed the players and their stacks. The shortest stacks at any table were at about $800 and there were few of them. The average stack was a little over $1k so I decided that would be the correct amount. But, as I waited for a seat, I began to question myself and what I might be walking into. Eventually, I chickened out and put my name on a list for 2-5NLH instead. It was a long list but I made up my mind. I was hungry anyway. The wait would give me time enough to hit up The Café for a latte and sandwich.

In hindsight, I should have sat in the higher game. I let an unwarranted fear drive me away. I know I am good enough to sit in any game. The money wasn’t the issue. I just thought, for a moment, that I might be out classed. Man, that’s just dumb. I’m better than that. At some point, I’m going to have to find out for sure.

After relaxing for a few in The Café and enjoying half of a huge turkey sandwich, I made my way back to the poker room. I was closer to the top of the list but would wait another 15 minutes or so to be called. As I got to my table, pulled out $400, and began to sit down, the dealer told me I would need to go to the cage to get my chips. I was shocked. In a place as nice as this, I just assumed chip runners would be included in the package. After all, everyone else has them. Then, in a pleasant twist, a runner did show up as I was getting up. “That’s more like it.”

The game was an average mix of loose and tight, passive and aggressive. There seemed to be only one player that I would need to steer away from. But I had only just sat down so it was too early to be sure. As of late, I have been more disciplined at avoiding action early on at a table. Its best to acquire some info before getting too involved. Unfortunately, I was sucked in to a couple of pots in my first couple trips through the blinds. The most notable, and costly, was a limped family pot on my first BB (I had posted in the cutoff.) I had 4-2o and was more than happy to check and see a flop against five opponents. The flop came 4-J-4, the SB checked and I followed suit. It checked around to the button who led out for $20. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until the SB called. Now there was enough in the pot to make it worth taking down. I also didn’t want to continue against multiple players. So I raised to $60 with the intent of isolating as well as finding out where I was. In a limped pot, I could very easily be up against another set of fours…and I had no kicker.

It folded around to the button and he folded, too. I hadn’t been worried about the SB as I put him on a draw to over-cards. So once the button folded, I thought I was set with my set. But then the SB, a man in his late 60's or early 70's, moved all-in. Oops! It was $75 more to me so I was kind of pot committed. But I was pretty sure now that he had a 4. My mind circled around the decision. After about a minute and a half of turmoil, I made the call thinking that he probably also had a small kicker so I could get a chop or pair my 2 for the win. He did, in fact, have a small kicker, holding 5-4o. The turn was a medium-sized rag that would give me half the pot. But don’t forget, kids. There is a river still to come. And that river was…a 5. I had him covered so I didn’t have to re-buy just yet.

I tightened way up and made $50 last for while. Along the way, I picked up a couple of good reads and got the general feel of the table. I would use that to grind my stack back up to about $130. Then a bad thing happened…the table gotten short handed and, soon after, broke. I had just gone through the blinds when we got down to four-handed and stopped play. While we waited for a floor person to come break the table and send us to other games, I asked, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to play my button?” It was the only laugh I got out of them. My new table would prove to be much more fun.

I took my $130 to the new table and quickly got the feel for the overall play. Not too tight. Several players were willing to call pre-flop raises with middle suited connectors or K-Qo down to K-9s. I had noticed one player liked to play paint-rag from late position. He mixed it up pretty well, though, raising sometimes and calling others. But he didn’t know how to get away from the hand if he caught part of the flop…even if only pairing the rag. I played tight, still trying to work my stack back up to an amount that I could use more liberally.

With only a couple exceptions, everyone at the table was willing to talk and laugh. I felt right at home as they put up with my silliness from the beginning. As I mentioned, I was playing tight and they noticed it. They gave me action on my pre-flop raises but left me alone if I continued after the flop. That worked well for me as I worked my chip stack up close to $400 in about 2 hours. Then someone realized that the whole table had tightened up and suggested we do a round of shots to loosen things up. I had already broken my rule in my previous session and was trying to play as straight as possible this night. But I also didn’t want to quash the great mood at the table. So I said I would if anyone else was. A few of them talked about what they wanted to drink and settled on Jagermeister. Blech! Not what I think of when it comes to shots these days. It was one thing in college. But not now.

I decided to go along with them anyway and put up with the Jager. But then a new player joined the table. He heard that we were going to order and said he would, too, but he wanted Patron. That sounded alot better to me so I said I would join him and have a Patron shot instead. A couple guys grumbled because they wanted to have everyone drink the same thing. But they soon decided to go with the new flow and have Patron as well. It took forever to get a waitress (maybe 20 minutes) but we did and we got our medicine. She delivered the Patron in some very nice, tall shot glasses with thin sides and deep bottom. So we really got a good amount in each. They also salted the rim and put the world’s smallest lime slices on them. I thought the salt and lime were unnecessary due to the high quality of the tequila. I also later commented that we got “the world's worst tasting limes.” Bottoms up!

90 minutes and three Patron shots later, I realized I was feeling no effect but a few of my drinking partners were visibly worse for wear. They had all loosened up their play thanks to the booze. But, if anything, it had the opposite effect on me. I was playing ultra tight. Though, it was partly due to the fact that most pots were raised before the action got to me so I couldn’t even limp in with marginal hands. Another reason was that I was quite card dead. When I did have a hand, they continued to pay me off pre-flop and leave me alone post-flop. Except for one guy. I raised with A-Ko and we got heads up. The flop was A-K-9 with two spades. I bet since there was a flush draw. The pot was $70, I think, and I bet $50. He called and the turn brought a small spade. This time, I checked, thinking he must have been on the spade draw. He checked behind me and, suddenly, I didn’t know where I was in the hand. The river was another small spade. I was pretty sure I didn’t have one and again checked. I allowed my disgust in myself and the situation to show. He now bet $25 into this $170 pot and I requested, "Somebody call my mother and tell her I suck at this game." It looked like a simple value bet since any spade could win. But I had to go through the process and think about my Aces and Kings before releasing the hand. I also wanted to give one last look for a spade. I new both of my cards were big and recalled that one of them was black. The first one I looked at was the Ac. I looked up and said, “Well. That one’s black.” Neither of my cards was a spade so I was pretty much done with the hand. But then my thoughts took a different direction. This man was new to our table so nobody new anything about his play. The bet was small enough that I could look him up and get some info…like with what kind of hand he’d call a pre-flop raise and a big flop bet. I felt even more justified in calling for info since everyone at the table could share in the knowledge. We were having such a good time together, it seemed like a friendly gesture to my drunken colleagues.

I called and he smirked and shook his head, indicating that he did not hold a spade. I was actually surprised as I turned up my hand and took down the pot. I had found an inexpensive reason to call and it worked out in the end. Cool. The table changed over the next hour and the mood got a little heavier as new faces arrived. So I decided to call it a night. I cashed a smallish win and was proud of being able to once again come back from an early deficit. I was also very happy to have found a fun group of guys. It was a good night.

It was about 2am and the line at the taxi stand was a hundred head long. So I chose to hoof it back to the Riv. Not a bad idea as it turned out. It helped me unwind after the session. Since it was Saturday night in Vegas, I wasn’t ready to call it a night. I made the long hike to the pool tourney room to see how the late night action was. Nothing. Not a single soul in the room. Damn! That sucks. I guess another 8am start time for the remaining competitors on Sunday was the to blame. Oh well. That was my “cue” to call it a night. The next day, Roman and I were on the road by 11am because he needed to be back home for something work related that afternoon.

All in all, it was a pretty good trip. I didn’t party it up in the way I thought I might. I also didn’t play poker the way I had hoped to or in all of the places that I had planned. So I left Vegas feeling the itch to get back there soon. But next time, poker, not pool, will be the priority.

SEEYa